


Wishing Well

by snapeplissken



Series: ReKinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Drinking, Kinktober, M/M, Office Sex, REKinktober, S.T.A.R.S. (Resident Evil), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26787259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapeplissken/pseuds/snapeplissken
Summary: Chris stays late at work to catch up on paperwork. Well, maybe he's the catch.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Series: ReKinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953310
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Wishing Well

**Author's Note:**

> So me and my friends are doing a REKinktober this year. The first prompt was office sex, so I absolutely had to have the OTP have some fun before everything went to hell. I hope you enjoy it! I apologise for the messiness; since these are day by day prompts, I don't have time to edit them. orz

Chris rubbed his hands across his face. It was getting late, it was Friday night, and the dregs of his coffee had long gone cold. The paperwork in front of him wasn't getting done; he was too agitated, too tired, too distracted. 

He wanted a fucking cigarette. He wanted a beer. He wanted to go home and jerk off in the shower before going to sleep.

He huffed at the closed office door, glowering angrily at the man hidden inside. Wesker had insisted that Chris finish the backlog of reports he had let pile up before leaving for the week… but…

But he wasn't going to do it.

He rose up and briefly considered just leaving, letting Wesker eventually come out to find the office empty. But he didn't want the captain to think he was a coward that snuck off while no one was looking. 

He strode to the door. 

Chris couldn't hear anything inside; Wesker wasn't taking a call or rustling paperwork. It was silent, and if Chris didn't know for certain someone had walked into that office hours ago, he would have thought it was empty. 

Without knocking, he opened the door. He stepped into the dimly lit office, taking in the scene before him.

Wesker sat in his chair, cradling a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in one hand. His sunglasses were on his desk, his hair a bit mussed. He looked up at Chris languidly, his eyes dragging along the figure in the doorway. He looked… Well, tired. But relaxed. _ Good _ .

“Christopher,” Wesker drawled. Chris took a sharp, quick intake of breath, straightening his spine and clacking his teeth together. 

Was Wesker drunk?

“I’m heading out,” Chris finally choked out. He flinched when Wesker chuckled darkly. 

“I suppose you’ll be staying late every day next week as well then.” The blonde threw back the last finger of whiskey, swallowing the alcohol easily. Chris began to worry then; if Wesker was drunk, how was the man getting home? 

“Stop staring; I’ve only had the one glass.”

“Sorry, Captain,” was Chris’ terse reply. He couldn't help but focus on the wet curve of Wesker’s lip, how his mouth glistened with whiskey. He wanted…

“I’ll be heading out then.” Chris abruptly turned to leave. 

“Christopher.” 

He halted in his tracks. “Captain?”

Chris heard a bottle being opened, being poured into a glass. His mouth suddenly went dry. There were footsteps behind him, a hand on his wrist. Breath on his neck. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back, relishing the sheer intimacy, a soft sigh escaping him.

Wesker pulled him back into his office, twisted him around and pushed him onto the desk. He stood between Chris’ spread thighs, and without breaking eye contact, took a long draught from his glass while looking down at the other.

“Are you thirsty?”

Chris nodded, and reached for the blonde. He grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him down, so he could reach that sharp, tempting mouth with his own. 

It was good, honey-sweet, with just the right amount of bite in the aftertaste. Chris delved his tongue into the kiss, chasing whiskey and gaining Wesker’s approval. 

He felt hands on his waistline, tugging open his belt, undoing his fly. He felt gloved hands pull at his shorts, releasing his erection and lazily pumping him. Still he chased that whiskey.

He reached out, laying his hands on his captain’s hips, reaching down to find an impressive girth. He moaned, grasped at it through the fabric desperately, thrusting his hips forward to meet those demanding fingers pulling at his own cock. 

He hooked his fingers through Wesker’s belt loops and pulled him closer. He was too-warm now, and far too excited about the attention his dick was getting. He fucked up into the hand tugging him, gasping at the heady sensation and breaking his kiss. “Do you wanna…”

Wesker didn't seem to notice that Chris had trailed off. He pulled his own pants open and pushed Chris’ back flat on the desk. He quickly tore off the brunette’s pants, tossing them thoughtlessly onto the floor. He hmmed in appreciation; running his hands along the fit, toned legs, up and along the sides of Chris' calves and over the tops of his thighs, finally resting them on his pelvis. He gripped the dip of them and, tugging his pointman into place, stepped up and leaned over to lick a trail along tempting abs. 

“Top drawer, left hand side,” Wesker said. Blushing, Chris managed to keep his hand steady as he reached into the drawer and found a small bottle. Bringing it into view, he realised it was lube. His face reddened even more.

_ Oh fuck. _

Wesker had removed his tactical gloves and was pouring ample lube on one hand. Chris felt his fingers circle and one breach him and harshly sucked air in through his teeth. He watched as Wesker paused, still staring at him, and lifted the glass off the desk again to take another quick drink. 

His captain towered over him then, and placed his mouth over his. Chris greedily accepted the kiss, pleasantly surprised by the small mouthful of whiskey spilled into his own mouth. He felt his dick grow impossibly harder, and he hungrily lapped at his captain’s mouth.

The stretch of fingers, while incredibly methodical in pace and movement was definitely intensifying, and when he jolted up, clacking his teeth against Wesker’s as he gasped, he could have sworn the blonde chuckled. He groaned as Wesker moved away, but couldn't help the moan at the heavy, wet, lubed-up dick pushing against him and sliding into him. He’d never admit it, but Chris absolutely  _ whimpered _ .

Wesker was characteristically quiet throughout the ordeal. Looking up, Chris appreciated the loose strand of hair on his captain's usually pristine head, and the soft blush adorning his cheeks and chest. As pretty a sight his captain made, Chris’ eyes snapped shut as Wesker shifted his angle, mercilessly dragging perfectly into that spot in Chris. 

“Fuckfuck _ fuck _ .”Chris arched his back up and spread his thighs, opening himself to get fucked as good as he possibly could. His hands reached above his head, gripping the edge of the desk tightly as Wesker fucking pummeled into him.

One of Wesker’s hands moved from his hip over to his own leaking erection, and began pumping him perfectly in tune with his thrusts. Chris vaguely heard a small shattering sound as he helplessly jerked up into that pressure, bringing a knee up to rest a foot against the desk, bracing himself in place. 

He wasn't going to last.

He reached blindly for the other man, needing to touch him, any part of him. He bit his lip as he found a well-muscled arm, and tossed his head back when he was rewarded the nicest fucking twist along the shaft of his dick with the next tug. He was surprised then when Wesker's other hand snaked beneath the other and fucking perfectly gripped and tugged his balls. He cried out as he experienced the sharpest, headiest orgasm of his life.  _ And Wesker kept fucking into him _ .

Chris opened his eyes to see his captain smirking at him. Wesker raised his hand covered in Chris’ mess to his mouth and licked it up, tongue darting out between thin, smiling lips. Chris’ mouth watered, and his skin was prickling with overstimulation. 

Wesker shifted then, clearly about to come himself; he gripped Chris’ thighs hard, very hard, and Chris was mesmerized as he watched his captain spend himself. He noted how his eyebrows pinched together, how his lashes fluttered as his eyes shut, how his back curved and his arms tensed. The feeling of Wesker's cum filling him was… 

If Chris was still a teenager, he’d be hard again. But as it was, his stomach flipped and his dick twitched and he was blissed out and relaxed, but still tired. 

Wesker looked down at him, pulling out and tucking his dick back into his pants. His blue eyes lingered over the brunet’s starry gaze; they were both complacent, out of breath, and there was sweat trailing Chris’ face and Wesker’s back and arms. Suddenly, the office felt very small, somehow sacred. They both knew that they had changed things, that they made a secret together in the S.T.A.R.S. office that night. 

Chris cleared his throat, and slowly rose to sit up. The hard, unforgiving desk wasn't the best thing to lounge on, and he felt exposed and silly laying there with no pants while his superior stood before him fully clothed. 

Wesker seemed to smile at him, handing him the discarded clothes and his fingers brushed Chris’ gently as he accepted them; Wesker pressed their knuckles together, the touch intentional and comforting. 

As Chris made himself decent, Wesker began cleaning the broken glass off the floor. Chris realised he must have kicked it off the desk earlier. 

“Sorry,” he offered mildly. Wesker looked up and smirked. 

“If you knew how much a shot of this costs, I’m sure you’d be licking it off the floor right now,” he said teasingly. Chris couldn't help but laugh, and he brought the little rubbish bin to his captain. 

“Probably. Please don't tell me.” He brought his face in, considering kissing Wesker again. To be fair, he would take a kiss over the sweet-honey-smooth-whatever any day. Wesker watched him intently, and Chris couldn't explain it, but instead of kissing the other, he brought his hand up and pressed the stray blonde hairs back into place. 

He didn't want anyone else to see the Wesker he saw that night. 

He stepped back then, smiling and exiting the office. He grabbed his jacket from his chair and flipped back around to wave at Wesker, leaning in the doorframe. 

“See you next week, Captain.” His pulse raised a bit when Wesker grinned back, a sexy, interested, definitely satisfied and indulgent grin. “Late nights until the paperwork is done.” 

“Indeed.” Wesker purred; Chris headed out then, practically a skip in his step. 

The next work week was definitely going to be interesting . 

  
  
  
  



End file.
